_To the Editor of the American Phrenological Journal._
Having examined the heads of several gentlemen, since I have been in
the southern states, who have fought DUELS, I have been struck with
the fact, that most of them have _Combativeness moderately_ developed,
_Cautiousness large_, and _Approbativeness very large_. This has led me
to reflect upon the principles in our nature which instigate and keep up
the practice of duelling.
Duelling is a pretended display of courage, personal prowess, or
bravery, in defence of one’s character and honour. But it strikes me
that, on phrenological principles, with such an organisation as I have
alluded to, a man can be neither truly _brave_ nor _courageous_, natural
_fear_ or actual _cowardice_ being the more legitimate result of such
a conformation. Hence it would follow, if we are permitted to take the
cases alluded to as proper data from which to reason, that the fighting
of duels is _no test_ of courage at all; but rather the result of fear,
or (as I shall hereafter show) they generally evince a want of _moral_
courage in those who engage in them; and this view, if I mistake not,
exactly corresponds with the popular notion upon this subject. But
suppose they _did_ display courage; what then? What is this boasted
courage, of which we hear so much?
Courage may be divided into two kinds—_physical_ and _moral_. The
former, when analysed, will be found to consist mainly in the exercise
of Combativeness; and this is one of the lower propensities, common
to man and brute. Of course, then, physical courage is a low passion;
and one that is often displayed in the bull-dog or game-cock far more
powerfully than in the most gallant knight that ever shivered a lance,
or the most renowned hero that ever waded to the temple of fame through
fields of carnage and blood. But moral courage, which is made up of
_Combativeness_, _Firmness_, _Self-esteem_, and the _higher sentiments_,
and which enables us to go boldly forward in our own integrity and
strength, and on all occasions support the _right_, and do whatever
Conscientiousness, Benevolence, affection, and the reasoning faculties
dictate, is an exalted feeling—a noble sentiment—and none can show too
much of it; for, since it cannot be exercised but in a worthy cause, it
is incapable of being perverted or abused.
The manifestation of physical courage is proper when exerted in
defence of our natural rights; but is very liable to be abused, and
when misdirected, instead of its being a virtue, it becomes one of the
worst of vices. Man is not the natural enemy of man; and we live in a
community which professes to be regulated by wholesome laws. Therefore,
when one man voluntarily turns this instrument of defence against his
fellow-man, or exercises it improperly upon a brute, he tramples upon the
laws, and is justly held amenable and punishable. Such a manifestation
of Combativeness or courage is a plain _perversion_ of a naturally good
faculty, and becomes odious and sinful; and such I cannot but conceive
to be the _kind_ of manifestation of this feeling which generally takes
place in duelling.
“But,” says the advocate of duelling, “must I submit, then, when I am
insulted, to be disgraced?” Certainly not, sir; but, in order to preserve
your character from infamy, you should be careful not to employ means
which, instead of rescuing it, actually adds to its degradation; or, in
other words, in order to preserve your _honour_, you should not resort to
means really _dishonourable_.
But with the view to appreciate the weight of this subject, I have
endeavoured to bring it home to myself, and consider what reply I would
make in case I should be _challenged_. In our country, where we have no
_Court of Honour_, (an institution, by the way, which I think ought to
be set up,) I would say to the challenger, “Sir, if you think yourself
injured or insulted beyond the redress of civil laws, I am willing to
submit the case to gentlemen of honourable standing, and settle it
according to their decision.” If he would not listen to this proposal,
but still insisted on fighting, I would say to him, “Sir, neither my
conscience nor my judgment will allow me to be so fool-hardy as to throw
my life away by meeting a man who seeks my blood, nor will my humanity
nor my moral feelings allow me to imbrue my hands in the blood of a
fellow-being.”
Should he then call me a coward, I would reply, “Sir, you show _no
proof_ of it. I hold that fighting duels is more frequently an evidence
of a _want_ of _moral_ courage, than a proof of physical courage. If,
by my course, I display no proof of the _latter_, I certainly do of the
_former_, by thus braving public opinion on a point which I consider
wrong. But suppose you _did_ thus prove my want of physical courage, you
only show that my _intellectual_ and _moral faculties_ are stronger than
my _brute propensities_; and is this a disgrace to a rational being?” Let
the advocates of this practice say what they will in vindication of it,
and attempt to justify it on the ground of its expediency, necessity,
&c., the fact is, all their reasonings upon the subject are shallow,
sophistical, and disgraceful in a civilised, or more especially Christian
community.
The only proper grounds on which to meet the question, are its
_reasonableness_ and its _justice_. Is it _rational_? is it right? In
a barbarous community, where _might_ is held as the only grounds of
_right_, the doctrine might meet with favour; but among us, who reject
such a principle of action, and who profess to be governed by established
laws, it is evidently _irrational_; nay, a gross neglect of duty in
those who profess to administer our laws, to permit individuals thus
to set them at defiance, and under the excitement of passion execute
vengeance on each other. But, on the scope of right, the question does
not admit of debate. Not only do the principles of our holy religion,
in the broadest and most direct terms, condemn all such practices as
sinful, but every moral principle of our nature revolts at them. True,
were we to suppress the influence of our moral sentiments, and exercise
our reasoning faculties in connection with our selfish propensities only,
we might say, “injury for injury,” “blow for blow;” but even then we
could not say, “death for insult,” for there is no comparison between
the two. An insult is limited in its consequence to time; death reaches
to eternity. But phrenology teaches us, that we have no right to settle
a question of this nature, without exercising our reasoning faculties in
connection with the moral sentiments; and I defy any one to prove that
the _latter_ ever sanctioned duelling. Nothing can be clearer than that
to _decline_ a challenge would be an act of _moral_ courage, and as much
more _honourable_ than to accept, as the moral feelings are above the
animal instincts. If, therefore, any one choose to differ with me in
opinion upon this point, he is welcome to do so, and I envy him not his
privilege, for I hold mine to be the legitimate conclusion of a rational
and moral view of the subject; ergo, the opposite conclusion must spring
from the predominance of the brute propensities acting in concert with
the intellect.
Again; I am aware that it will be urged, as the most specious argument
in favour of duelling, that, in this matter, we are bound to respect
_public opinion_. But it has been clearly shown, that public opinion (or
that part of it which still advocates this practice) is unquestionably
_wrong_ on this subject; and in this enlightened age, every honest man,
and every brave man, is bound to _resist_ public opinion in all matters
that interfere with humanity, justice, and moral obligation, and thus
set forth the noble example of _correcting_ public opinion. And more
especially is it the prerogative of phrenology, above all other sciences,
(inasmuch as it enables us clearly to analyse the passions and motives
of men,) to wield its giant strength, against those vices which neither
civilisation nor Christianity has yet been able to subdue.
_Public opinion_, forsooth! And what is public opinion? What but an
evanescent and a capricious thing—a fickle dame, ever varying, ever
changing—that raises a man a hero and a demi-god to-day, and tramples
him in the dust as a base wretch and outcast to-morrow? Look at the
Protean aspects of public opinion in the different ages of the world,
and among the different nations of the earth. Look at public opinion in
the different epochs of the Roman empire, and of the Grecian states.
Behold its changes. Look at it under the mighty Egyptian, Babylonian,
Assyrian, Medean, and Persian dynasties. Compare public opinion at the
present day in China, with that in the United States. Compare it among
our rude Saxon forefathers, with that which prevailed in the days of
William the Conqueror. And in English society, what mighty changes has
it not undergone since the days of Henry the Eighth. Look at the changes
produced on public opinion by a Solon, a Zoroaster, a Pythagoras, a
Homer, a Socrates, or a Plato; an Alexander, a Cæsar, or an Alfred. See
the tyrant bow its neck to the mild, but sublime influence of the Gospel,
wherever it has been introduced. See it bend again before the influence
of philosophy, science, and the arts, and, more especially, before
improvements in our political and civil codes. And are we to be told,
then, that, amid the full glare of light and knowledge which beams upon
us, we are passively and submissively to bow to this capricious tyrant,
and not dare to raise our voices against its cruel and absurd edicts? No.
Reason forbids it; morality forbids it; Heaven forbids it. Let the light
of science and morality, then, clear the mist from our eyes; and let us
go on to _refine_ and _correct_ public opinion, until every vestige of
barbarism and superstition are expunged from our herald-roll. And what is
duelling but a vestige of barbarism that has too long formed a foul blot
upon our national escutcheon?
Mobile, March 12th, 1839.